Cookies, Milk and Santa Claus
by Mei Vir D. Ripper
Summary: "But didn't you always prepare those fuc-" he coughed. "I mean, you always ask your mom to help you prepare those cookies for him every year."


**A/n:** This was for the theme "Cookie" for the Advent Calendar of the HirumaxMamori group. Now, every kid knows who eats their milk and cookies every Christmas eve. 8D

Special thanks to Honey-Bee89 for being my beta!

And, of course, I do not own Eyeshield 21.

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><p><strong>o0o<strong>

Hiruma once again felt that very inquisitive gaze fixed upon him as he silently read his morning newspaper. Nervous, he decided to ignore the steamy mug of coffee on the table as he raised the paper in front of his face; though this action did help guard him against _those eyes_, it did nothing to block out the shuffling noises taking place just 3 feet beyond his sorry excuse for a barrier. Feeling the person in front of him becoming more restless, he sighed and dropped his defenses to look at his young daughter, who was now poking at her breakfast with a pout on her lips.

Seeming to sense his attentive gaze on her, she raised a pair of sparkling green eyes at him, and the blond quirked a curious brow at her in return.

It never ceased to amaze the former quarterback how identical she was to her mother: with her red hair and that small dent on her chin. Shiori was indeed the splitting image of Mamori except for the emerald eyes and the slightly pointed ears. She even inherited his sharp analytical mind, which definitely made Hiruma proud.

While he patiently waited for the young girl to settle her thoughts on whatever it was that was bothering her, Hiruma slowly took a sip of his black coffee, noting how its temperature had gone down a centigrade. When Shiori finally opened her mouth, he silently braced himself for self-preservation.

"Daddy, is Santa Claus real?" she inquired sweetly.

He froze, placed his cup back on the table, and pondered the question for a while. Was fucking Santa Claus real? As real as that fucking egg-laying rabbit – but he couldn't say that, because that would bring up even more questions – of the rabbit as well as the jolly old fat-ass wearing a red suit. He needed to bite his tongue and focus on the Santa question. He knew that his daughter believed in that fucking old geezer; she even asked his fucking wife to prepare a tray of milk and cookies every Christmas eve. And no matter how fucking silly the whole thing was, he wasn't going to reveal the truth to her. He may be a sadistic bastard, but he wasn't a complete asshole. He would _never_ hurt his precious little girl.

Not too sure what to say, he decided to play it safe and counter the question with another question rather than give an outright answer.

"Why are you asking?"

"Well...," she paused. "I haven't really seen him yet." Her expression turned downward, to which he cringed.

"But didn't you always prepare those fuc-" he coughed. "I mean, you always ask your mom to help you prepare those cookies for him every year." At the reminder of her yearly ritual, Shiori immediately perked up. The blond devil mentally congratulated himself for winning that smile, but knew that the battle was far from over. He rapidly thought of countermeasures and _counter_-countermeasures as the discussion progressed.

"I do! And he always ate them!" his daughter exclaimed happily, but then her brows drew together, and she was once again in deep thought.

_Oh boy.._

"But I _never_ saw him. Not once." There was that pout again.

It was at this moment when Mamori casually entered the kitchen with a basket full of dirty clothes held in her arms. She immediately noticed the tense expression on her husband, which she would have found hilarious, if not for the sulky expression on her daughter. Tossing a quick look of inquiry at her partner, she slowly placed down the clothes' basket before sitting between the two.

"What's the matter?" she asked, smiling. When it looked like no one was going to answer her question, Mamori subtly kicked Hiruma on the shin and signaled him to tell her what was wrong - or else. The blond growled at the pain inflicted but quickly replied with a flick of his hand.

'Santa Claus.

'

_'What about him?' _her hands questioned back. He explained the conversation he had with their child in a rapid succession of hand movements. Though they didn't use this form of communication as often as they did during their time in the Deimon Devil Bats, it still came in handy from time to time. And when having secret conversations such as this one, it was always best to use a series of hand signals no one has ever deciphered... yet. Finally understanding the gist of everything, she gently stroked her little girl's hair, hooked a finger under her little chin and tilted her face up to look into her eyes.

"I believe Santa is real, if you believe in him," Mamori said with a smile.

Shiori stared at her mother with wide eyes, then smiled brightly at her. Jumping down from her chair, she quickly gave her mother a tight hug and her father a peck on the cheek. "I will!" she said enthusiastically before running out of the kitchen; her mind already formulating ideas on how she could meet Santa Claus this upcoming Christmas, and to thank him for all of the pretty toys she had received in past years.

Mamori chuckled at her child's obvious glee, and winked at her husband's wide grin. She had efficiently handled the situation in 10 seconds and smirked at him. Taking her discarded basket of clothes, she left him to finish the remaining house chores for the day.

Hiruma merely shook his head and went back to reading his fucking newspaper, glad that the whole fucking debacle was finally over. How his wife could think of an answer like that was beyond him. He mentally took a note to purchase a box of Kariya Creampuffs for her later on. Nodding, he took another sip of his coffee and cringed at how cold it had become. Scowling at the disgusting drink, he decided to discard it in the sink.

_'Well, that's one problem solved,'_ he thought as he, too, left the room. His mind ran through all of the preparations he needed to do for the upcoming Christmas. _'Fuck. I'll have to wear that fucking suit again,'_ he thought with a groan.

Unbeknownst to him, this might be the last season he'd be wearing it.

**o0o**

It was the night before Christmas, and a tall, lone figure quietly navigated his way around the now cold room; longing for the soft crinkling sound of burning wood as he made his way towards his objective. Clutched in his hands was a huge sack filled with all the precious goods that would make a little red-haired girl - currently in deep slumber upstairs - happy. He stalked the huge tree that was filled to the brim with random ornaments, and carefully placed all of the bag's contents underneath it.

Once done, he then walked over to the small side table where a tray of milk and cookies sat waiting to be consumed. The blond devil glared at the innocent offering and mentally debated whether to just leave it untouched or not. He had been scowling at it for quite some time when a voice suddenly shook him out of his thoughts.

"You do know that you should eat those cookies and take _at least_ a small sip of milk before you leave, _Santa_," the voice said, highly amused. "You don't want the same thing to happen again from three years ago, do you?"

Mamori – dressed only in her night gown and robe – casually leaned against the door frame with arms crossed over her chest. A small grin tugged at the corner of her lips as she studied her husband. She had wandered down to their living room to make sure everything was alright. To find her husband clad in that red suit she had sewn years ago, scowling furiously at the set of snacks she had prepared earlier that day, was definitely worth getting up for.

His wife laughed softly as he grudgingly took a bite of one of the cookies and almost choked when he drank that horrible tasting white fluid. Wiping his mouth in distaste, he walked towards his grinning wife who happily watched his discomfort. She waited patiently for him and slowly snaked her arms around his neck; pulling him closer to her. Hiruma pouted, and Mamori smiled cheekily in return.

"You made them too fucking sweet, Fucking Manager," he grumbled.

"Did I?" she innocently asked, batting her eyelashes before lowering her head to hide the mirth in her eyes. He snorted at her, not at all buying her act of innocence.

"Yes, you fucking did. I'll let you taste it for yourself," he answered in mock anger.

Mamori stared at Hiruma's sparkling green eyes, then at his sexy lips – where a few cookie crumbs still remained. She licked her own lips unconsciously; an action that did not go unnoticed by the blond quarterback.

"Hmm... Should I?" she grinned. It was a rhetorical question and both knew it. With slow deliberate decent of his head, Hiruma ardently captured Mamor's parted lips in his own; deepening the kiss more as she returned the kiss' intensity with equal fervor; if not more. And as their bodies molded perfectly and their tongues battled for complete dominance, they were no longer aware of their surroundings, nor of the pair of emerald green eyes silently watching them from a hidden corner.

Unbeknownst to Mamori, Shiori had carefully crept down the stairs after her mother came to her room to make sure that she was properly tucked in bed and fast asleep. When she reached the bottom floor, she quietly crawled behind one of the big couches when she spotted her father – dressed in a red suit – walking towards her mother. She also immediately noticed the plate of cookies, and the glass of milk almost completely empty.

The girl felt deceived that the person whom she badly wanted to meet tonight was none other than her own father. Not the round, jolly man in a red suit who had reindeers for pets, and who lived in the Northern Pole – which, now that she thought about, would be utterly impossible for human habitation. The figure she had imagined throughout the years was actually a tall, lanky-framed, blond man who had been living under the same roof as her.

She felt disappointed. But suddenly remembered her mother's words:

_'Santa is real, if you believe in him.'_

And it didn't seem to matter anymore that Santa wasn't what she imagined in the first place. It didn't matter anymore because every year her father gave her the best gifts she had ever wished for. And every year, he always – albeit grudgingly – drank the milk and ate the cookies that she helped to prepare with her mother; even leaving a small note for her saying it was delicious and telling her to be a good girl for the next years to come.

Wiping away a few stray tears, little Shiori happily watched her parents kiss each other senseless, and grinned widely as she noticed that small green plant with its three red cherries inconspicuously placed just above their heads. Taking out a small black notebook already halfway filled with information she has gathered through her short life, she carefully wrote another entry that might be useful in the next years to come.

**o0o**

The morning of Christmas day arrived.

Fighting off a sigh escaping his mouth, the blond quarterback quietly entered their kitchen to fetch a glass of water. After a heated evening with his beautiful wife the night before, it had left him parched from the moment he woke up. And although he would rather cuddle up a little longer with her in bed, his throat had screamed vengeance. Padding quietly around the different rooms, he noticed a mass of red hair bobbing underneath the Christmas tree. Curious, he retraced his steps and entered the living room.

Hiruma quirked a brow as he watched his daughter happily humming to herself while busily opening the presents that were meant for her. While it wasn't uncommon to see his little girl in such a state of happiness, the thing that struck him as odd was how quiet she was about it. Every other year, she screamed like a banshee and woke up the entire household declaring that Santa had just delivered her Christmas presents.

As if feeling that someone was watching her, Shiori crawled out from underneath the tree and saw her father looking at her with a curious look on his face. Grinning, she ran to give her father a big hug, and when he opened his arms to catch her, she threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his check. "Good morning, Daddy!"

Hiruma grinned back at her. "Morning, Squirt. You're up early."

She nodded her head. "I was checking my presents," she answered. "I received everything I wished for this Christmas!"

Chuckling, Hiruma walked towards the tree with his daughter in his arms, and smirked at the opened presents. Of course she received everything she wished for this fucking Christmas. If there was one thing that he felt most proud of, it was knowing what his little angel wanted every year. And while reading her letter for fucking Santa Claus made things insanely easy, he paid enough attention to her to know even without the fucking list what she wanted. She was his daughter, and he will always feel compelled to provide only the _best _for her.

He mentally congratulated himself on another job well done as his eager little angel wriggled her way out of his arms. But instead of going to the presents like he thought she would, she rushed towards the small table with the plate of uneaten cookies. Her brows were furrowed together in a cute small frown, which he would have found adorable, if not for the sudden burst of giggles.

Turning around to face her father, she held the plate of cookies in her small hands and offered it to him. There was a hint of mischief hidden in her sparkling green eyes.

"Would you like some cookies, Daddy?" his daughter grinned. And just like that, Hiruma knew he wouldn't need to wear that fucking red suit or be forced to eat those horridly sweet cookies ever again.

Not unless his wife were to get pregnant, then he'd be right back to wearing the suit and choking on the cookies. But looking at his daughter, he had to be honest... he actually hadn't mind it all too much.

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><p><strong>An:** Well, this was sort of a part 2 for the drabble "Baby, Milk and Cookies", but yeah... their stories are completely unrelated. Their only similarity? Hiruma having hard time answering the questions of his daughter. HAHAHAHA

Now, read and review, dahlings! ;D


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